‘I say, I’m awfully sorry I thumped you on the head just now,’ she began, and held out her hand invitingly to the enemy. ‘I wasn’t a bit sorry at first, and I wanted to do it again, frightfully; but I am sorry now, and I don’t.’
The girls who were still in the passage lingered, and looked back. Evidently, there was no end to the sensations that Barbara Berkeley meant to produce in her first term at school.
‘Hush!’ whispered Jean, glancing round timorously at the head-mistress.
Babs looked amazed. ‘Won’t you shake hands?’ she asked. ‘I know I thumped you awfully hard, but still––’
‘Sh-sh!’ repeated Jean, trying to push past her. ‘Don’t you know we’re not allowed––’
‘I think–I do think you might make it up,’ continued Babs, in a disappointed tone. ‘Even if I did hurt you rather, you must own you were very mean.’
Jean Murray, feeling the eyes of authority fixed upon her, made another attempt to escape. ‘Can’t you wait till to-morrow?’ she asked in an agitated whisper.
‘I should have waited, if it hadn’t been for that hymn,’ answered the child, still barring the way obstinately. ‘I can’t help it if the hymn made me feel funny without making you feel funny too, can I? I can’t think what there was about that hymn,’ she added to herself reflectively; ‘I never remember noticing a hymn so much before.’
Miss Finlayson came up to them, and Jean fairly quaked. If there was a rule that the head-mistress was strict about, it was the rule of silence after prayers. Jean knew, for she had been unlucky enough to break it more than once.
‘I have changed your room, Jean,’ said Miss Finlayson, calmly. ‘Angela will have yours for the rest of the term, and you are to sleep in number fourteen, next door to Ruth Oliver. I have just told Angela, so you can go straight to her old room now, and I will send up one of the servants to move your things for the night. The rest can be done in the morning. By the way,’ she added, as she left them, ‘you three may talk till the lights are put out; for it seems that Barbara has something to say that will not keep until to-morrow. Good-night.’